


The wolf, the cop, the car.

by Trekiael



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Bottom!Cas, M/M, dom!Dean, sub!cas, top!dean, werewolf!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-05 18:41:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1828325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trekiael/pseuds/Trekiael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day a rather unique werewolf meets someone that catches his eye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. License plates

**Author's Note:**

  * For [carrionofmywaywardson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carrionofmywaywardson/gifts).



> apologies if there's anything innaccurate about this. I tried to research a little, but as a non-american, there might be some mistakes.

Contrary to popular belief, werewolves, just like any half human – half animal creature, are not overcome by their animalistic urges. People assume that because they are not quite human, they are mostly animals. It makes it easier for them to deal with that vaste dangerous unknown that is what they are.

  
  


But the truth is, humans might not have instincts as strong as animals, but their consciousness is a lot more developped, and after the initial wonder about their newfound abilities (for those that were turned and not born that way), the cold human calculation takes over. They become aware of how different they are, how special. Few mourn the change, despite the troubles, and most gain a sense of superiority.

  
  


Werewolves, in particular, certainly know how to exploit those abilities.

  
  


While not as good hunters as the feline types, they are incredily strong, and possess sharp senses. In their human form, they still keep most of these abilities, and can can easily crush a man's throat with their bare hand. Hear the other side of a phone conversation in a crowded train. Smell leftover aftershave on the singer's face during a concert.

  
  


The recently turned ones have troubles dealing with the onsault of senses. Too much, at once. Some even go crazy.

  
  


And so, contrary to popular belief, werewolves don't live in packs. Don't mate for life. And don't grow into Alpha, Beta or Omega. Werewolves are loners, mostly. Selfish, proud, with an air of superiority to them. This is where the similarities stop, since, as their human side is the strongest, theyr are all as very different from one other than human themselves are.

  
  


As for their relationship to humans... It's a bit tricky. They don't really get along with them. Not because humans are weak, hell, the less threatening a person the better, but because humans tend to be instinctively wary or even scared of them. And even if a tentative friendship develops, humans generally disapprove of the wild, sometimes cruel way werewolves live, especially since they don't know _what_ they are as, of course, no one really believe in them. So werewolves fuck humans, those that are into the dangerous thing, but it rarely goes further than that.

  
  


This particular human, Dean wants to slam his head on the top of his desk, repeatedly.

  
  


Dean has always been a rather strange werewolf. One of the very rare that was actually born that way, with incredibly sharp senses even by werewolves standards, ruthless, amazing hunter... but this is it. He rarely changes other than during full moon, when he doesn't have a choice. When it comes to being a loner, he's way too attached to his little brother to be one, even if since Sam went to college, Dean is now truly living the loner life. Those are only the major quirks that make Dean an odd wolf.

  
  


Once of these quirks is the reason why Dean is here, right now, glaring straight into the eyes of the man in front of him. Dean rides a car. A beautiful, sleek, '67 Chevy Impala. His one precious possession. Werewolves, while they understand the practical aspect of them and as such do use them, don't really appreciate cars the way humans do. Dean, on the other hand, loves driving his Baby. And once again, Dean's oddness is what ends up getting him into trouble.

  
  


“As I said, Sir, your license plates aren't conform to the norm, and need to be replaced.”

  
  


“Yeah, I got that part, dipshit. Question is: How the fuck am I supposed to change them in two fucking days when it takes 2 weeks to have an appointment at the DMV?!”

  
  


Dean has to give credits to the cop for not even flinching at Dean's booming tone. Still, he does look apologetic, and despite Dean's anger, he understands that the man has no ultimate superiority in this, only following orders.

  
  


“If you fail to change the plates under the dateline, your car will be removed until you can provide them.”

  
  


“This is fucking bullshit! No one takes my Baby away, you hear me?”

  
  


The man looks unimpressed and frowns.

  
  


“Sir,-”

  
  


“I said no one.”

  
  


The man sighs, warily, but Dean catches the small hint of a smile at the corner of his lips. It makes his anger almost completely dry out. For all his stick-in-the-ass attitude, there is something about that guy that Dean can't quite hate. Something that makes him want to tease him and push him around a bit.

  
  


“If you try to resist, we will have to arrest you, you know?”

  
  


Dean smirks.

  
  


“Oh? Gonna try to handcuff me officer? You know, generally I'm the one putting handcuffs on other people...”

  
  


The guy frowns, but to Dean's surprise, it isn't in reproach, but in confusion. Dean raises an eyebrow and when the guy squints, he winks. Finally, realization dawns on him and he blushes, which makes Dean snicker. He's not generally into guys, except for the fact that guys can handle some serious ass ramming much better than girls, and he has not been really paying attention to that guy's looks until now, but...

  
  


Castiel, the nametag said, might be the type of guy Dean wouldn't mind pushing headfirst in the matress and fuck within an inch of his life. Castiel looks strong for a human. Almost as tall as Dean himself, obviously well-trained, with good shoulders and strong thighs. A square jaw, with a hint of a stubble that probably isn't quite into regulations and that shows a glimpse of something not quite as law-abiding as meets the eye.

  
  


But what's really drawing Dean in, beside the sharp blue eyes, is those fucking lips. Castiel is the quiet type, and his lips barely move when he speaks, but just enough to make Dean believe that when those plush, bow-like lips spread wide, there's a mouth big enough to host Dean's more than average prick. And the more Dean stares at it, the more he thinks about pushing the good officer to his knees and make him swallow his entire cock by grabbing him by his messy hair.

  
  


The fact that Castiel is wearing a uniform only makes Dean all the more horny, and wants to fuck the law, very literally.

  
  


“Guess I'll see you in two days then. Bring your handcuffs, officer, we're gonna need them.”

  
  


And with a last wink, Dean turns on his heels and leaves, hearing Castiel mumbling behind him.

  
  


“This is so innapropriate...”

  
  


Dean snickers.

  
  


**

  
  


Two days later, Dean is sipping his beer in front of the TV watching reruns when he hears the sound of a car stopping and doors being carefully slammed close. He smirks. Castiel is all he has been thinking for the last two days, and he jerked off four of five times picturing himself spreading the good cop wide while pounding into his tight, tight ass.

  
  


Show time.

  
  


He waits until the doorbell rings and takes his time to answer the door. He opens it, beer still in hand, shirtless, and leans against the doorframe.

  
  


“Oh, look who's here. My favourite cop.”

  
  


Castiel smells sinfully good. Closely shaved this time, fresh from the shower. Even his uniform is perfectly clean. Dean wants nothing more than to wash the cleanliness off him and covers him in sweat and sex scent. He licks his lips.

  
  


“Do you have your new license plates?”

  
  


“You know damn well I don't.”

  
  


Castiel sighs, pretending to be put off.

  
  


“Will I have to restrain you?”

  
  


Dean smirks, wide, and leans closer.

  
  


“Oh, you can _try_ , officer.”

  
  


Castiel's eyes flash. They look at each other for a moment and Castiel reaches for his handcuffs. He doesn't get to take them far, though, and in a lightspeed move, Dean pulls him inside and slams him against the door, holding his hands above his head. He presses close, sneaking a knee between the officer's legs, and buries his nose in his neck.

  
  


“Assault on officer will cost you a lot, Mister Winchester.”

  
  


“Call me Dean. And...”

  
  


Slowly, he moves his leg higher, until his thigh is pressing right into Castiel's crotch. The officer's breath hitches, and Dean can hear his heart pounding. But he doesn't struggle. Taking it as a victory, he breathes in deeply and presses his already growing cock against his hip.

  
  


“...You don't seem to mind the assault all that much.”

  
  


Castiel doesn't answer and Dean smirks. Castiel's scent is making his head spin, now mixed with arousal and nervousness. He wonders how experienced the man actually is. Some instinct, human or animal, is calling at him to make a claim, to take Castiel as his.

  
  


In a split decision, he grabs Castiel by his hair with his free hand and forces his head back, looking at him for a second before crushing their lips together. He wastes no time to sneak his tongue pass those sexy lips and tangle with the warm, sleek tongue inside. Castiel doesn't protest, doesn't shy from the kiss, but doesn't try to fight for control either and lets Dean do his thing.

  
  


Dean growls in the back of his throat and rolls his pelvis against Castiel' hip, rutting against him while rubbing circles into Castiel's crotch with his thigh. Soon, they're both breathing hard. Dean is so horny, his cock so full all he can think about it fucking Cas, right there and then, against the door.

  
  


Since Castiel is not struggling, Dean releases his hands and sneaks his hand between the officer's body and the door, squeezing his ass. He groans when he does, finding Castiel's ass as perfect as he suspected. His other hand joins the party downstairs, quickly unbuckling his belt so that both of his hands can fit inside those clean pressed pants. One goes for the hard cock, the other for his ass, fingers sliding in the crack to tease the hole hidden there.

  
  


By the time Dean's middle finger meets the very, very tight opening, they are both groaning and moaning, and Castiel is sucking on Dean's tongue like he can't get enough of it. The air reeks of aorusal, just the way Dean likes it, and his entire focus is on the delicious treat in his arms.

  
  


Which is why he doesn't pay attention to what's going on outside before he hears the rumbling sound of a big motor. It takes half a second for his brain to catch on, but then he's tearing his mouth from Castiel's own and looking at him in disbielief. And despite the fact that his lips are swollen, his eyes blown in lust and glazed over, his face flushed, Castiel is smirking.

  
  


“Son of a bitch!”

  
  


Dean immediately lets go of Castiel and pulls him away from the door, opening it wide and looking frantically outside. A big, black cop is leaning against the hood of a police car, looking at the towing truck as it leaves, taking Dean's Baby with it.

  
  


Dean gapes and turns to look at Castiel, who's casually buckling his belt again while exiting Dean's place.

  
  


“You!”

  
  


Castiel smirks again.

  
  


“Get your license plates, Dean.”

  
  


And with that, Castiel joins the other cop, who makes a comment about Castiel's distraction techniques while Castiel simply shruggs.

  
  


...What the freaking hell.

  
  


That fucking asshole.

  
  


...Fuck he's really got a nice ass.

  
  


**  
  
Dean, of course, is a werewolf. And doesn't take the trick laying down. Since he has no other choice, he does get the new license plates, almost tearing the guy in charge of the cars' throat apart when he notices a scratch on the paint. But he hasn't said his last word.

  
  


So that's how he finds himself, three weeks after having been tricked, casually entering the police station through a window in the upstair floor. He whistles, not bothering to play discreet, since he already knows he's alone in the building.

  
  


Well, safe for a certain cop working on files, and his partner locked somewhere in a bathroom where he has been taking a dump for the last hour.

  
  


Dean is good at hiding in the shadows, despite his large frame, so he easily sneaks up on the cop, bent over a metallic folders box, looking through them. He takes a second to admire that perfect, perky ass, and then moves closer, until his cock is pressed right into the crack of that ass, already hard.

  
  


Castiel, of course, straightens up and tries to snatch Dean's arm to pull some kind of self-defense move on him, but Dean is faster, and much, much stronger, and effortlessly slams Cas heardfirst on top of the box, moulding himself against his back and breathing in his ear.

  
  


“Heya, Cas.”

  
  


Castiel relaxes a little under him, recognizing his aggressor, and sighs.

  
  


“I don't believe we are that familiar.”

  
  


Dean smirks and nips along Cas' jawline, stopping until he reaches his earlobe to suck on it, humming.

  
  


“Oh? I dunno 'bout that, Cas, you did let me put both my hands down your pants.”

  
  


Cas' answer is a low moan, because to ponctuate his sentence, Dean rolls his hips, making sure to press his cock against where Cas' entrance is supposed to be. He relishes in the way Cas' heart pounds in his chest and his breath quickens.

  
  


“You got me well last time, but you ain't fooling me. You do want me to fuck you. Hard and filthy. Pump you full of cum and make you come so hard you ain't gonna be able to stand up for hours.”

  
  


Castiel screws his eyes shut and lets out a small whimper. Dean takes it as a yes.

  
  


“Think you can handle me, Officer?”

  
  


Castiel's eyes snap open to glare up at Dean from where his face is pressed against the surface, on top of some files.

  
  


“Do not underestimate me.”

  
  


Dean chuckles and breaths in Castiel's ear.

  
  


“Good. Hope you're not gonna regret these words.”

  
  


Since Dean is pissed about the trick, he doesn't bother being gentle. He doesn't kiss Cas or turn him around. He keeps him right there, bent over the box, with a hand in the middle of his back while he fumbles for the handcuffs with his free one. Lucky for him, and very conveniently, there's a pipe right behind the box, and Dean is able to hook the chain behind it before securing both of Castiel's wrists there.

  
  


“Told ya.”

  
  


Once of Cas' leg kicks up in answer, and Dean snatches it mid-air. Hooking it in the crook of his elbow, he keeps Castiel spread wide and rolls his hips against his ass as filthily as possible.

  
  


“Flexible too? Good.”

  
  


Castiel snaps.

  
  


“Are you actually going to do it or are you simply going to chat?”

  
  


Dean chuckles at Castiel's angry tone. Obviously the officer doesn't like to be teased. All the best.

  
  


“Impatient, are we.”

  
  


Figuring he played long enough, Dean decides to move things along. Since he's not planning to actually make love or be by in any kind gentle, he uses some on his monstruous strength to rip open the back of the uniform pants, along with the underwear, creating a hole big enough to grant him access to Castiel's hole.

  
  


“Assbutt. I have to pay for these you know.”

  
  


Dean shurgs, even if Castiel can't see him, frankly not giving a crap. For all answer, he slaps Castiel's ass, hard, a few times, making him jolt. With his free hand, he reaches for the lube in his pocket, single handedly opening it. He wasn't kidding when he said he's big, and even if he's not planning to be gentle, there's limits to how much he's willing to hurt the cop. After all, he does want to make him come, too.

  
  


Since he can't help teasing him, he still spares a few seconds to trace Castiel's hole with his lubed finger, making him shiver and unconsciously cant his ass back for more friction. When Cas starts panting, his hips rotating in the air, Dean pushes not one, but two fingers inside at once. Castiel whimpers, the intrusion too much at once.

  
  


“Holy shit, you're tight.”

  
  


Cas has to be a virgin. And while usually Dean doesn't go for virgins, he can't help but admit that the proud, sneaky cop being a virgin is making him fucking hot. Immediately, his fingers start thrusting in and out, not too hard, but definitely not gentle either. It only takes a couple of thrusts for him to find what he's looking for and soon Castiel is crying out, spreading his legs wider.

  
  


“That's it. Scream. I wanna hear your voice.”

  
  


Castiel shakes his head, so Dean stops his thrusting motions and presses the tips of both fingers right against the spot inside, rubbing furiously, forcing the sounds straight out of Castiel's throat. He makes use of the discraction to force a third finger in alongside the others, making Castiel choke. Then he resumes thrusting.

  
  


Castiel's discreet moans turn into loud ones the harder Dean's fingers slam inside of his body, and when a fourth joins in, he almost screams. A couple more thrusts and Dean is ready to explode. One day, he thinks, he'll make Castiel come just with his fingers. Right now, though, he needs to fuck that ass.

  
  


He sees Castiel tense when he opens his zipper with his free hand and smirks. He takes his fingers out, loving the way the now dilated hole clenches against nothing, and steps closer. He rubs the entire length of his cock against Cas' crack, making him feel it.

  
  


“See how big it is? Still sure you can take it?”

  
  


“Yes! ...Please.”

  
  


Dean certainly didn't expect Castil to beg at any point and blinks. Biting his lip, he grabs his cock in his hand and rubs the head against the hole, admiring the way Castiel rolls his hips to feel it even more. Not able to waste another moment, he pushes in, in one single movement. They both groan, loudly. Dean because Castiel is so tight, Castiel because Dean is so big.

  
  


From there, it goes on fast and hard, as promised. Both of Dean's hands hold onto Cas' hips while he pounds into him, filling him completely with his cock, not even needing to aim for his spot. With each thrust, Castiel let out a strangled scream, hands scrambling on the pipe for purchase, holding on tight.

  
  


In the completely darkness of the police station, the two shapes move together in an animalistic rut, disrupting the silence with their groans and the sounds of skin slapping against skin.

  
  


Castiel comes first. With a hoarse cry, thighs trembling, cock untouched, inside his pants. Dean follows suit, buried balls deep inside Cas' ass, pumping waves after waves of cum deep inside, his orgasm so intense that his claws grow a bit as well as his teeth.

  
  


He lets out his breath in a whoosh when he finally done and collapses on top of Cas, who's laying bonelessly, struggling to catch his breath. As a werewolf, it takes a lot more for Dean to be out of breath, but he's still filling incredibly drained. It occurs to him that he never came that hard before.

  
  


And that he wants to do it again.

  
  


Sluggishly, he straightens up and takes his dick out, admiring the great flow of his own cum leaking down Cas' hole, over the glimpse of his balls Dean cand see. He tucks himself back in and reaches above Cas' head for the handcuffs. Not bothering to look for the keys, he simply pulls on the chain, making it snap.

  
  


One of his hand then curls under Castiel's throat, cirling it, while the other goes back to his gaping hole, fitting all five fingers at once, only stopping at the knuckles.

  
  


“I'm not done with you. And your ass's gonna miss me anyway.”

  
  


He doesn't let him answer and kisses him, hard, all the while thrusting his fingers in and out, barely. He breaks out th ekiss, licks Cas' lips, and pauses his fingers inside, wriggling them around, making Cas tremble. And just like that, he's gone.

  
  


That night, Dean changes into a wolf and runs in the woods, feeling more full of life than he had in a very, very long time.

  
  


End of part 1.

  
  


  
  


 


	2. Report on thievery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel gets another visit during the night shift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was planning two parts. There will be four.
> 
> Again, I apologize for any innacuracies. This is how it works here. It might be a little different in USA.

Out of all the cops in the station, Castiel is generally the one to take care of angry, unreasonable citizens. Sad as it is, considering his skill level, he's one of the most adapted to talk to them. But he also has that awkwardness, softness and pretty face that's incredibly endearing, despite his sternness and straight face-ness.

  
  


He is, for some reason, incredibly popular. Many, many people have tried to coax him into sleeping with them, but after being turned down one after the other, even Anna, the beautiful red-head, they all have given up, thinking that he's asexual, for the educated ones, weird, for the others.

  
  


The truth is slightly different.

  
  


Castiel, because of his uniform, his stern behaviour, his seriousness, his size, his bluntness, is, most of the time, classified as a dominating man that likes to be in charge. Those that know him well know better, know how much he hates the position of leader, how much more comfortable he feels when he has to follow another's directives.

  
  


Although, no one know how deeply this runs. Castiel, as he as come to understand, is a submissive when it comes to sex. All he wants is a dominating man pushing him down and having his way with him, being in full charge in the bedroom. He wants to be ordered around and punished when he does wrong. He wants strong hands on his body and forceful hips snapping into his.

  
  


Of course, this is something he keeps completely secret, and as people assume the opposite of him, he never had the occasion to fulfil that fantasy of his. And while he had some fumbling experiences with women before, he is still a virgin in every sense that matters to him.

  
  


Everything change the day he meets that one citizen that doesn't back down at his commanding tone. Oh no, far from it. That citizen, completely disregarding that Castiel represents the law, makes it very clear that he's the one in charge here. Despite himself, Castiel feels a thrill run down his spine.

  
  


Castiel, however, can be a little cocky. He's a great police officer, but he has a tendency to overestimate his abilities. So it's very confidently that he goes to Dean Winchester's house to trick him into letting the police take his car without a fight. And it does work, since Castiel _is_ a good strategist. But what he doesn't foresee, is how utterly done for he is the moment Dean presses him against his door.

  
  


That night, Castiel masturbates to the memory of that hard body holding him with unbelievable strength, not giving him the slightest chance to do anything but let himself being played like the finest instrument into the hands of the most skilled musician.

  
  


But no matter how many people flirted with him, Castiel still possess that kind of innocence that makes him forget that people might be seriously interested in him. So he's more than a little surprised when about two weeks later, Dean shows up at the station with the only goal to have his way with him.  
  
The second he realizes whose voice is breathing in his ear, his heart starts pounding in his chest. He has never, in his entire life, desired someone as badly as he does that man. What happens after that is a blur of sensations, feelings and pleasure so high, so strong that when it's over and he's left panting, sore and completely disconnected from reality.

  
  


It takes him a while, long after Dean left, to fully wrap his mind around what just happened. And when it does, he grins so wide Uriel, who finally comes back from wherever he was hiding, thinks he took something. Thankfully, he doesn't notice the fact that Castiel is wearing his spare pants and still smells like sex, as he's still full of Dean's semen.

  
  


**

  
  


“Heya, Cas.”

  
  


Maybe Castiel really is a simpleton. Because he never considered the possibility that Dean might actually come back. Especially not so soon, only one night after their last encounter.

  
  


Hearing that deep, rumbling, amused but slightly dangerous voice right in his ear makes him close his eyes and let out a shaky breath. Dean sneaked up on him, again, and is standing right behind him, pressing his already half hard cock right against Castiel's ass. He's only a couple of inches taller than Castiel is, which brings him at the perfect height, even if his presence is incredibly imposing.

  
  


Castiel is on night shift again, which means only he and Uriel are there, his partner once again somewhere else in the building doing his own thing. Castiel knows that they really shouldn't do anything there. If they get caught, Castiel will be in serious trouble. Strangely, this idea makes him more excited than anything else.

  
  


“Hello, Dean.”

  
  


He feels Dean smirk against his neck, where his face is buried, already busy smelling him and tasting his skin. Without thinking, Castiel tilts his head to the side, standing perfectly still with his hands still clutching the folder held in between them. Dean doesn't have to say or do anything to force him under his spell, just the way he says his name is enough.

  
  


Dean's hands, which have been trapping Castiel against the counter until now, find their place on Castiel's body. One goes for the buttons of his shirt, popping one off so he can slide his hand under the flap and touch his chest, while the other trails up his inner thigh. Instinctively, Castiel spreads his legs further apart.

  
  


“Fuck. I can't wait to fuck you again. You felt so perfect around my dick the other night, I get hard each time I think about it.”

  
  


Cas licks his lips at the praise en lets his head drop against Dean's shoulder, exposing his throat. Turning his head a little to the side, he breathes directly into Dean's ear.

  
  


“It's all yours, if you want it.”

  
  


Castiel is always blunt, but he still feels daring and very kinky as he utters the words, completely out of his territory and yet so aroused, so at ease in that role that his entire body tingles. Dean seems to appreciate it, and growls. A low, dangerous sound that comes from deep inside his throat. Castiel simply brushes his lips against Dean's jaw.

  
  


“Damn right I want it.”

  
  


Dean's lips trail up Castiel's throat, until they are right above his mouth, breathing against his lips.

  
  


“I want all of you, Angel.”

  
  


Castiel is a bit surprised by the nickname, but simply smiles. Dean, meanwhile, pauses, as if considering his own words. And then he kisses Castiel. A harsh, possessive, bruising kiss that makes his head spin. Dean's hands resume moving. The one on Castiel's thigh cups him through his pants, forcing a low moan out of him, while the other finds his nipple, making his tremble.

  
  


Dean tastes like beer and BBQ sauce, which is not unpleasant. He's also very warm, his body hard like steel. His touch, though, is almost gentle. Almost. At least compared to his kiss, which involves a lot of biting, but not in a way that makes it less than perfect. His tongue is clever, twisting and curling and dancing with Castiel's own in such a dirty way Castiel feels completely owned.

  
  


When their lips part, they don't separate by a long distance, keeping close to breath hard into each other's mouths. Castiel finally opens his eyes, only to find Dean's beautiful ones staring right back at him. By the Lord, Dean really has incredible, otherwordly features.

  
  


“Damn. Your face is fucking criminal.”

  
  


Castiel blinks, then squints.

  
  


“I was thinking the same thing about yours, albeit not exactly in these words.”

  
  


Dean chuckles, right before nipping at Castiel's lip with sharp teeth. He opens his mouth, no doubt to answer something witty, but then stops, as if concentrating. Finally, he smirks.

  
  


“Hm. Guess I ain't fucking your sweet ass today.”

  
  


Castiel blinks in confusion, wondering what happened, but Dean briefly kisses him before winking at him.

  
  


“Don't worry, my own pretty face is not going far. But we're gonna test your self control.”

  
  


Castiel tilts his head to the side with a frown, wondering what in the Lord's name Dean is talking about. But then he hears the doorbell, announcing that someone wants to come in. Holding back a curse, he wriggles out of Dean's grasp just enough to reach under the counter for the button opening the door and granting access to the random citizen.

  
  


“Dean. You-”

  
  


He has not time to formulate his question, because next thing he knows, Dean is on the floor, kneeling right behind him, and the door is opening. He ignores Dean for now and welcomes the lady, who looks annoyed and distressed.

  
  


“Good evening Madam.”

  
  


“Yeah, yeah, evening officer. Look, I just got my wallet stolen. HERE! In this town! Aren't you supposed to make sure this doesn't happen?”

  
  


Castiel mentally sighs, not bothering to raise to the bait, and simply takes a form and a pen from the table in front of him. As for Dean, he is still behind him, hiding.

  
  


“We will try to look for it. Please fill this first, and then I will have you meet my colleague for the report.”

  
  


The woman, thrown back by Castiel's calm, doesn't say anything and simply snatch both the form and the pen. Castiel grabs his walky-talky while she writes, and calls Uriel. However, while he waits for his partner to answer, he feels Dean's hand slowly and carefully reach for his belt. His lips part and his heart stops. And then Dean is rubbing the tip of his nose against the crack of his butt, and his heart starts pounding.

  
  


Castiel tightens his grip on the walky-talky and tries to ignore the man now pulling his zipper down. Dear Lord, Dean isn't seriously going to...? Uriel answers right as Dean's hands hook on the waistling of his pants and slowly pull them down, nipping sharply at his cheek.

  
  


“Castiel. What do you want?”

  
  


Castiel tries his best not to stutter, but his voice still slightly trembles before he catches himself.

  
  


“There, hm, there's a lady here that needs to fill a report on thievery.”

  
  


Uriel answers in his clipped tone that he'll be here when he's done with what he's doing, and hangs up. Castiel hand slightly shakes as he drops his walky-talky on the table, because now Dean is done pulling his pants down and Castiel's entire lower body is exposed. The lady is, thankfully, completely unaware, frowning deeply at her paper.

  
  


Castiel stays silent, pretending to look back at the folder he was taking care of before Dean interrupted, while actually focusing entirely on the man behind him and trying to stay perfectly calm. Which, when Dean's thumbs pull his cheeks apart to blow softly on his hole, is not as easy feat.

  
  


“How the hell am I supposed to write my ID card number since it was stolen?!”

  
  


Castiel breathes out softly and bites the inner part of his lip to keep his moan in as Dean's lips brush against his hole.

  
  


“It's alright. If you don't have it, leave it blank.”

  
  


Again thrown off by his soothing tone, she simply nods and resumes writing. Castiel completely ignores her because now the tip of Dean's tongue is tracing his hole, teasing it and making it twitch. Castiel has to bite on his tongue and clench his hands hard on the folder. Dean Lord, no one ever did that to him before. It's incredibly stimulating.

  
  


Castiel's hips are being held by Dean's strong hands, which could clearly force him to stay still, but obviously Dean is having fun watching Castiel's control slip and lets him roll them around just the slightest bit, unable to keep perfectly still as his hole is being so thoroughly teased.

  
  


When Dean finally pushes his tongue inside, Castiel's knees buckle, and he lets out a small sound.

  
  


Startled, the lady's head snap up. Castiel only blinks, slowly, as if nothing strange happened. He's actually quite amazed by his own ability to keep his expression blank, especially since now Dean is slowly thrusting his tongue in and out, which feels so good Castiel can hardly believe it. He wants nothing more than to let out the sounds threatening to burst out of his throat, to drop on the counter and squirm under Dean's delicious ministrations.

  
  


Dean spreads Castiel's cheeks even wider apart and opens his mouth wide to suck, hard, but astonishingly silently, on Castiel's rim, all the while burying his tongue as far in as possible. The folder almost tears straight in half under Castiel's grip and his Adam's apple wobbles a few time in a valiant effort to keep silent.

  
  


“Alright, done. Now what?”

  
  


It takes all of Castiel's willpower to focus back on the lady, who's now looking straight at him and drumming the pen on the counter. He needs a moment to precess the question, long enough for her to frown, because Dean's tongue is curling, rubbing against his inner walls.

  
  


“My... partner is going to come for you soon.”

  
  


As soon as possible, Castiel hopes, because he doesn't know how much longer he can keep still. The lady huffs and goes to sit on one of the plastic bench in front of the counter. Castiel knows that he's not off the loop yet, but he still feels a little relieved not to have her so close to his face.

  
  


Dean's tongue is back to thrusting, lazily, but deeply. So deep that it brushes against Castiel's special spot, making him see stars and his cock leak profusely on the folder in front of him. By now he's panting softly, sweat pearly down his brow and his hips pushing back to meet Dean's thrusts.

  
  


He doesn't know how long he keeps being tortured by Dean like this until Uriel finally comes to lead the lady to his office, not looking particularly enthusiastic about it. He stops by the counter first, just as Dean speeds up his trusts, making Castiel's knees tremble.

  
  


“How long?”

  
  


Castiel doesn't know what Uriel is asking, but glances at the clock and his mind automatically supplies the answer.

  
  


“About 15 minutes.”

  
  


Uriel nods and finally, finally! Leaves. Castiel only waits until the elevator's doors are closed to reach behind himself and clutch at the back of Dean's head, letting out a moan while moving his hips in fast moves, riding Dean's tongue.

  
  


Dean lets him. Only for a second. And then one of his hand presses against the middle of his back, forcing him to lean against the counter in a firm move that Castiel wouldn't have been able to object even if he had wanted to. Instinctively, he spreads his legs as far apart as his pants will allow and cants his ass. Dean hums and takes his tongue completely out, making Castiel whimper in frustration.

  
  


“You did well, Angel. Now I'm gonna make you come. With my tongue only.”

  
  


Castiel nods frantically, not caring about getting anything more than that as long as Dean's tongue is back in there, driving him crazy. And he thankfull doesn't have to wait for long. He lets out a loud moan as Dean penetrates him again and clutches hard at the counter while Dean thrusts at a merciless pace, the slick but strong muscle pushing Castiel closer and closer to orgasm.

  
  


As promised, Dean makes him come with his tongue alone. Hard, with a loud yelp, semen spurting right over the folder in front of him over and over again. Once he's done, he almost collapses, but Dean catches him and helps him to the floor, on his knees with his pants still around his ankles, his spent cock flopping wetly on his thigh.

  
  


“Good job, Angel. Next time, I'll let you suck my cock. I'm sure you'll like it.”

  
  


Castiel can only nod slowly. Dean kisses him briefly and disappears again. Only once he's gone and Castiel is getting dressed again does he realize that he's got five puncture wounds on each side of his hips, bleeding softly. Sighing, he opens a drawer for tissues and dabs at the wounds before pulling his pants back up.

  
  


God, Dean will be the death of him.

  
  


End of part 2.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, the werewolf element WILL play a part ;D


	3. Careless driving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean fetches Cas and takes him out for a ride.

Once he's back home, or more like, back at the shitty place he calls home for the time being, Dean drops his car keys on the table and grabs a fresh beer from the fridge. He lets himself flop on the beaten down couch and takes a long sip, washing away the taste of Cas' ass.

  
  


For a moment, his mind blanks out. He focuses on details. The never complete darkness of his room, thanks to street lights and shitty curtains, the sound of drunkards in the alley close by, the constant huffle of cars, the way the couch digs in his back... He lives in a two stories house. Small, run down, crappy. He hates it. It's the first time he actually rents a place, having always moved around between motels before. Why this town, why now, he doesn't know. But something makes him stay. Despite the huge ass spiders and rats in the walls.

  
  


He takes another long sip.

  
  


Beer doesn't really affect him. He likes the taste, but mostly it's like juice to him. Hell, most of the time, whiskey doesn't do anything either under two bottles. He likes to drink, likes the buzz of alcohol, but it's a luxury he can't really afford.

  
  


Dean does odd jobs. He's smart, adaptable, and good with his hands, but he gets bored really fast, and can't stand hierarchy. A werewolf thing. Werewolves are not made to settle down. Not made to be ordered around. They're not dogs. They're loners. They're independent. Most werewolves can't even stand humans. Dean, though, like them. Especially fucking them. Hard and fast and brutal.

  
  


He wants to fuck Cas again.

  
  


He smirks in the half darkness, remembering how hard Cas struggled to keep still while having his ass thoroughly eaten. How he managed to make him cum with only his tongue. How Cas clutched his head and thrust back on his tongue. Fuck, he could eat his ass all day. However, now he's frustrated, his cock straining in his pants. He could have stayed, could have fucked Cas after eating him out. But he wants to play with him. Wants to make him crave for it.

  
  


And to be honest, he's getting a bit worried by how much he wants him. Usually, he'd be bored by now. Instead, the more he sees him, the more he wants him. Just thinking about him makes his balls throb and his dick harden.

  
  


With a sigh, he keeps on sipping his beer while unbottoning his pants, sliding his hand inside to curl it around his aching dick.

  
  


**

  
  


Dean observes, fingers gently drumming on the steering wheel, while Cas and his partner exchange a few words before going their separate ways. It's the end of their shift, and they're going home. Well, the other dude is, Cas, if Dean has his way, is coming with him.

  
  


He exits the car silently and sneaks up behind his favourite officer as he unlocks his car, one that's strangely flashy for such a discreet guy. Right before he can open the door, Dean stops him, plastering himself against is back, pressing him against the door. He buries his nose in Cas' neck and breathes in deeply, taking in his scent. Fuck. Cas smells so great. Humans shouldn't smell this great.

  
  


“Hello, Dean.”

  
  


The cool, usual greeting makes Dean smirk wider, as it's completely at odds with the way Cas is already trembling against him, his ass canting to push against his cock.

  
  


“Missed me?”

  
  


“Yes.”

  
  


That's one thing that Dean really likes about Cas. He's blunt and shameless. It's such a major turn on. And makes things so much easier. No coy act. No will he won't he. No playing hard to get. No games. Cas wants him, just as badly as Dean wants Cas. They never exchanged numbers, never shared anything about themselves, never even talked after the first day they met except for a few dirty things. They just clicked.

  
  


“You're gonna come with me in my car for a ride, and then I'm going to fuck you somewhere you can scream as loudly as you want.”

  
  


“Yes, Dean.”

  
  


Dean closes his eyes, inhaling sharply. Castiel takes orders so well. Dean suspects he really likes to be ordered around. He already knows that Cas enjoys being dominated, but it's becoming more and more obvious that he's a complete sub.

  
  


“Kay, let's go.”

  
  


He grabs the officer by his shirt and leads him to his car, not being particularly gentle when he makes him seat in the passenger seat. Cas doesn't say anything and simply puts on his seatbelt, waiting for Dean to slide in the driver spot and do the same. Dean doesn't bother with the seatbelt, though, and for the first time, he sees Cas look at him with a reproachful tone. He's surprised he doesn't say anything, only sighs. Dean starts the engine.

  
  


He's not planning to go very far, but there's still enough distance to make the ride interesting. Casually he slouches in his seat as soon as they're on the road, and spreads his legs.

  
  


“Remember how I told you you'd get to suck my cock? Well, it's waiting for you.”

  
  


“Dean...”

  
  


It's the first time Cas protests a direct order, so Dean blinks at him. Cas is frowning and looking steadily back.

  
  


“You're driving. This is dangerous.”

  
  


Oh, right. Cas is a police officer. This makes it even better. Dean winks at him and doesn't take his eyes off his face while unbottoning his pants until his half hard cock pops out.

  
  


“Dean! Look at the road!”

  
  


“Make me.”

  
  


Cas sighs and unbuckles his seatbelt until he can kneel on the seat. He glares up at Dean once then bends forward, only pausing once his lips are a few inches away from Dean's cock. Dean looks back at the road then, waiting for him to go with it. He feels Cas' breathing accelerate nervously, and takes pity on him. Poor guy probably never sucked a cock before. He settles his free hand on the nape of his neck, gently rubbing the area.

  
  


Cas relaxes then, and Dean bites his lips when he feels him slowly lower his head until his lips are wrapped around the head. His lips part, letting out a slightly shaky breath. Fuck, he has wanted that for what seems like ages. Cas' mouth is hot. And damn, now he almost regrets not being able to see properly what Cas is doing.

  
  


One of Cas' hand curl around the base, holding it steady while his tongue tentatively traces the head, teasing Dean and driving him crazy with need. His grip on Cas' neck tightens as he resists the urge to force Cas' head down until he's buried all the way down his throat. Cas tongues the slit for so long that his cock is fully hard by the time he snaps.

  
  


“Fuck, Cas, stop fucking teasing and get on with it!”

  
  


Cas doesn't need to be told twice, and it occurs to Dean vaguely that he was probably waiting for orders. His lips slide slowly around Dean's cock, all the way down until they're wrapped around the base, the head of Dean's cock down his throat.

  
  


“Son of a bitch!”

  
  


Isn't Cas a virgin at cocksucking? No one should be able to take an entire cock, especially one as big as Dean's, on the first try. Cas doesn't even sem to be struggling with it, only humming and working his throat around it. Dean's hips unvoluntarily push up, not going deeper since he's as deep as he can, but grinding against Cas' face.

  
  


Cas who's still not moving. Dean knows he's probably waiting for orders. Or he's being a little shit. ...Most certainly the later, though, since Dean's order was to get on with it, not to be a fucking cockwarmer. And since that's how Cas is gonna play it, Dean doesn't really need to be gentle with him. His grip shifted from Cas' neck to his hair, curling in the soft, long strands until he has a fistful of them. Slowly, he pulls Cas' head up, then pushes it back down.

  
  


“That's how you want it? You want me to be rough with you? Cause I can do that.”

  
  


He repeats it again and again, until saliva is dripping down his cock along with precum, Cas panting hard against his balls and holding onto his thigh. Occasionally, he stops pushing Cas' head down and only hold him halfway so he can snap his hips up, pounding down Cas' throat with wet, gaggling sounds.

  
  


“I'm gonna make your voice even more rough than it is. I'm gonna make you choke on my cum. I want you to swallow all of it.”

  
  


For all answer, Cas only moans.

  
  


“Fuck.”

  
  


Dean speeds up his movements, until he's almost worried he's gonna break Cas. But Cas is pliant in his hands and when Dean comes, he eagerly swallows it all, also licking Dean's dick clean long after Dean's grip in his hair relax.

  
  


Dean stares blurrily up ahead, surprised that he managed not to ram the car into a tree by how hard he came. He blinks down at Cas when he realizes that he's not moving away, only shifting to make him comfortable on Den's lap, his cock still in his mouth.

  
  


“Holy crap. How fucking submissive are you?”

  
  


For all answer, Cas starts softly sucking on the head of Dean's cock. Dean is both astonished and incredibly turned on, and for the rest of the drive, his free hand keeps roaming over Cas body, touching everything it can reach, lingering in his hair to lightly scratch his skull, but finally settling down the back of his pants, tracing the crack of his ass softly.

  
  


**

  
  


Cas doesn't know it, of course, but the place he's bringing him is his special spot. This is the place where he goes to when he changes during the full moon, when he doesn't have a choice, or any time he feels like it. It's a clearing, right in the middle of a forest, with wild vegetation and a small stream. It's far enough from civilisation that there's close to no chance ever seeing a human there while in his wolf form.

  
  


Which wouldn't be particularly dangerous, as Dean was born as a werewolf and his personality doesn't radically change in his wolf form, only makes him slightly more aggressive. No the issue is that werewolves are not exactly wolves, per say. They still look a lot like humans, except hairy, with long claws and a wolf head. If one was to see a werewolf, they would immediately know what they're seeing. And thankfully, as of now, there hasn't been enough sighting to make them any more than a myth.

  
  


Dean is still wondering why the hell did he decided to bring Cas here, of all places.

  
  


The access by car is a little tricky, and the first few times he was really worried about damaging his baby, but now he only slow down enough to manoeuvre between the trees until his car is parked in the middle of the clearing, under the clear sky. It's a nice night, fresh but not cold, with the stars bright and the moon thankfully not full (Dean sometimes loses tracks of full moons and ends up having to turn in his home, which is annoyingly confining).

  
  


Once he stops the car, he looks down at Cas, peacefully laying on his lap, still softly sucking on his cock that's now back to a half hard state. The hand down Cas' pants keeps its gentle teasing, tracing Cas hole and making him lightly squirm. When he takes it out, Cas makes a noise of complain.

  
  


“Don't worry, you're definitely getting it. But I wanna fuck you outside.”

  
  


Cas sighs and lets Dean's cock slip from his mouth, straightening up to look at him with heavy-lided eyes while licking his lips. And then he leans forward, brushing his lips against Dean's, making him taste himself. Dean parts his lips, letting Cas have his fun for now, which he does, softly sliding his tongue inside Dean's mouth to kiss him.

  
  


It's a soft kiss, very different from what they did so far, and it makes Dean vaguely uncomfortable while actually enjoying it more than he ought to. His lips tingle when they finally break it, the urge to kiss Cas again, this time hard and dominating, strong. Instead, he opens his door.

  
  


“Out. I want your ass now.”

  
  


Cas only smiles and exits the car on his side, eagerly walking up to the front of the car and leaning against the hood. Dean follows him out and leans against the trunk of the tree in front of the car, arms crossed over his chest.

  
  


“Why don't you strip for me. Then sits on my car with your legs spread for me.”

  
  


It's not really a question, and Cas doesn't take it as one. His hands reach up for his shirt, long dexterous fingers unbottoning it completely before letting it drop on the ground. His belt, heavy with all its equipment, gun included, follows suit. Then his shoes, socks, and pants, until he's standing only in his underwear. Dean's tongue clicks.

  
  


“Tss. Your underwear are so not sexy. I hope next time you're gonna wear something better. Seriously, plain white boxer shorts? What are you, a priest?”

  
  


Cas blinks down at his underwear then looks back up at Dean's face.

  
  


“Considering their hazardeous lifespan thanks to a certain impatient man, I would rather not invest into more expensive models.”

  
  


Dean laughs a little at that. He loves that Cas, for all his submissiveness, has such a bite to him. He supposes that the reason he's so at ease being a sub in the first place is because he has no fear. And fuck, that's such a major turn on.

  
  


“Fine. I promise I won't destroy your precious sexy underwear then.”

  
  


“Alright. But if you do, I expect you to buy me some.”

  
  


Dean chuckles and shakes his head, watching as Cas takes off his final article of clothing and carefully climbs on top of the car. He waits until Cas is laying there, back resting against the windshield with his legs bent and spread, to step closer. Cas is fucking beautiful under the starlight, and it makes something wild in Dean want to posess him completely.

  
  


He stops when his knees bump against the car, staring down at Cas for a long while. Cas's lips press together and he juts his chin out while turning his head to the side, trying to cover up his embarrassment at being under such a close scrutinity. Wordlessly, Dean reaches in the inner pocket of his jacket and takes out the small bottle of lube, that he hands to Cas. Cas looks at it, then up at Dean's face, waiting for instructions.

  
  


“Prepare yourself for me.”

  
  


Dean sees Cas swallow thickly, obviously not having expected the order. He doesn't protest, though, and bites his lip while opening the bottle with slightly shaking hands. Dean stares hungrily as the clear liquid leacks on Cas' long fingers, which are then brought between Cas' legs. He quickly strip out of his jacket and curls his hand around his own dick, which was never tucked back inside his pants, staring with fascination as Cas' fingers lightly trace his hole.

  
  


He makes a small strangled noise when the first finger slowly pushes in, Cas' head tilting back with a moan. Cas obviously has been wanting to be penetrated again because he doesn't waste time teasing himself, immediately starting a quick thrusting motion. After a few thrusts, his second finger joins in, then a third. By the time a fourth forces its way in, Cas is squirming, hips wildly pushing down on his fingers while he pants and moans.

  
  


“Fuck. You're so fucking hot. Did you do that to yourself since last time, thinking about me?”

  
  


Cas shakes his head quickly, back arching further from the car when he finds his special spot, furiously rubbing against it.

  
  


“No? Why the hell not?

  
  


“I was... waiting for you...”

  
  


Cas' breathless tone and confession almost make Dean cum right there and then.

  
  


“Shit. Well, good, that's a good boy.”

  
  


Cas moans loudly, obviously turns on by the praise, his fingers speeding their thrusts.

  
  


“But I want you to do it from now on. I want you to touch yourself every night you're not with me, and to think about all the things you want me to do to you. And then I want you to tell me all about them. Capische?”

  
  


“I...Capische. Dean, please...”

  
  


Unable to wait any longer, Dean takes off his shirt and snatches Cas by his ankles, pulling him towards himself until Cas' ass is on the edge of the hood, fingers still burried deeply into it. Dean waits until he takes them out, moaning softly at the loss. Keeping Cas' ankles in his hands, he holds his legs up and spread wide.

  
  


“Go on, take it.”

  
  


Cas doesn't need to be told twice. His hand reaches for Dean's cock, guiding it to his own ass. He doesn't push it in right away, first rubbing the head all over the area, on and under his balls, and especially over his hole, teasing them both. Dean's grip tightens on his ankles.

  
  


“You fucking cocktease.”

  
  


The corner of Cas' mouth raises up and pride, but doesn't stay that way for long, because as soon as he guides Dean's big cock in, his back is arching off the hood and his mouth falling open with a long moan escaping his throat. Dean pushes forward, only pausing once he's buried balls deep inside Cas' wonderful ass. Cas wriggles, adjusting to his girth but also impatient.

  
  


Dean doesn't have any patience left himself. He pulls out only to slam back in, making Cas choke on a moan. He does it again, and again, and from then on, goes on thrusting wild and fast, pounding into Cas' ass with a strength that's bordering an dangerous by that makes Cas all the more wilder.

  
  


Dean feels Cas about to come not long after starting and stops completely, letting Cas' leg rest against his chest to be able to grab his cock and hold it firmly in his hand. Cas moans and trashes, needing friction desperately.

  
  


“If you come now, I'm not gonna stop until /I/ come too. And I'll make sure to last for a very long time. Think you can handle that?”

  
  


Cas blinks his eyes open then frowns.

  
  


“I can take anything you have to give, Dean.”

  
  


There's no way Dean can ignore the challenge. He lets go of Cas' cock and resumes pounding into him, so hard that the Impala's suspensions squick in protest. In no time, Cas is coming, clamping down hard on Dean's cock and screaming. For such a quiet guy, Cas sure is loud during sex. He smirks, but never pauses his thrusts.

  
  


Once Cas gets down his high, he simply lays there, panting hard and whimpering as Dean keeps pounding into his already abused spot. Dean keeps going for a while longer, holding tight on Cas' ankles when he lightly tugs on them, vainly trying to instinctively get away from the overwhelming feeling. Finally, though, he stops and pulls out.

  
  


Before Cas can really react, Dean climbs on the car with him and rolls him on his front, until he's pressed face first into the windshield, flat on his stomach. Dean gets on all four above him, legs and arms on each side of Cas' body, and slide back home. He makes sure to keep Cas' legs close, which makes him feel incredibly tight around his cock, and also allows him to feel his cheeks on each side of his cock when he pulls out.

  
  


With his cheek pressed against the windshield, his lips parted wide to pant and moan, Cas gets pounded again. Dean stares at his face while his hips snap down hard, jostling him with each thrust. Truthfully, Dean is so incredibly turned on that he could come right away, but he promised Cas he would make it last, and so he does.

  
  


Dean doesn't know for how long he keeps sliding in and out of Cas' pliant body, who, after a while, does his best to push back against him, obviously hard again. Dean keeps him pinned down while he fucks him, panting hard against the back of Cas' neck. The sounds of their panting and of skin slapping against skin, as well as of the Impala making her own noise, resonate into the clearing, otherwise completely silent.

  
  


They're both covered in sweat, and Dean knows that if he wasn't a werewolf, his muscles would be protesting at him from keeping the same position for so long. There's so much precum released in Cas' ass that he's sliding in easily, the slick, wet sound incredibly dirty and arousing.

  
  


Cas comes a second time, unsurprisingly, and Dean smirks in victory, because he knows he can last a bit longer himself, and it's incredibly fun to torture Cas so sweetly. But watching Cas moan and whimper and tremble in his arms makes... something. Something that he never felt before, take control of him.

  
  


Before he realizes what he's doing, his tankfully still human teeth sink deeply into Cas' neck, who tenses and clamps down on his dick, finally bringing him over the edge. The fact that he comes is what makes him relax his jaw before any real damage is done. He comes and comes, filling Cas with so much cum some of it leaks out, all the while licking insistantly at Cas' neck and growling low in his throat.

  
  


Only when it's over does he realize what he's done. He freezes, and keeps very, very still. But one of Cas' hand reaches up to his head, gently threading long fingers through his short hair and holding him in place. Dean relaxes a little, but his heart pounds wildly in his chest. He never, ever lost control like that. Definitely not over sex. What the hell is wrong with him? What the fuck is Cas doing to him??

  
  


**

  
  


The next morning, Dean is on the road. He drives fast, something lodged in his throat and his hands unaturally tight on the steering wheel. He reaches Standford in no time and only relaxes a little when he enters the by now familiar lobby of the students' dormitory. He flops on a couch and sends a text to Sam to tell him he's here. He leans back against it, listening to the busy-body activity of the students around him.

  
  


“Okay, what's wrong?”

  
  


Dean blinks and looks at his gigantic brother looking down at him with a frown.

  
  


“What? I can't come visit my favourite brother any time I want?”

  
  


Sam raises an eyebrow and jerks his head to point behind Dean.

  
  


“There's a table full of cheerleaders right behind you and you're sitting there instead of over there.”

  
  


“What?”

  
  


Dean turnes around quickly, only to find the table behind himself completely void of cheerleaders, unless the two nerdy guys playing chess have some unexpected extra-curricular activities.

  
  


“Har, Har, very funny Sammy.”

  
  


Sam grins like the little shit he is and sits on the other couch.

  
  


“Okay seriously, Dean, what's wrong?”

  
  


Dean grimaces, knowing perfectly well that his stupid brother is not gonna relent easily. Then he sighs and rubs the back of his neck.

  
  


“I... bit someone.”

  
  


“DEAN!”

  
  


Dean raises his hands in defense, shaking his head.

  
  


“No, no, wait! I wasn't turned! And there was no blood, just probably a nasty bruise! It's just... Sam, I never bite people, not even for the kink factor. But I just... couldn't help it.”

  
  


Sam relaxes, even if he keeps frowning, and leans back against the couch.

  
  


“And? What happened after that?”

  
  


Dean shrugs.

  
  


“Well, nothing, I dropped him home. Almost had to carry h-”

  
  


“Him?”

  
  


Dean freezes, mentally kicking his own ass. He looks up to see the smirk on Sam's face along with a raised eyebrow.

  
  


“Shut up.”

  
  


Sam chuckles and shakes his head. He's probably gonna tease Dean for ages because of it, the little bitch.

  
  


“Well, your own fault for sleeping with humans. You should know better.”

  
  


“Well, at least _I_ don't sleep with nasty shit like you.”

  
  


Sam glares. Dean smirks.

  
  


“Shut up, Ruby was that one time.”

  
  


“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Still gross.”

  
  


For a moment, neither say anything. But then Dean sighs and looks down to the side. His voice his unaturally soft when he speaks next.

  
  


“But what do you think that means? You don't think it's... _that_ , do you?”

  
  


Dean has tried hard not to think about it, because he knew he would freak out. He never really believed in that crap anyway. Never met anyone that ever had gone through this. And he's the last person he'd expect to have something like that happening to him.

  
  


“I mean, there has to be something else, right?”

  
  


He doesn't like the way Sam is looking at him. It's a mix of pity and love and pride and it makes him uncomfortable. If he's an odd werewolf, Sam is definitely worse. He's too friendly, too open, and completely rejects what he is. But out of them both, he's the one that knows the most, especially because he's a good responsible kid that wanted to go to college and live as a normal human being.

  
  


“Don't worry, we'll do research. You're lucky I just finished my project and I have some time for you. My roomate left on holidays too, so you can take his bed.”

  
  


Dean relaxes.

  
  


“Thanks, Sammy.”

  
  


“Anytime, Dean. ...Now tell me about that _guy_ human of yours.”

  
  


“Oh fuck you, bitch.”

  
  


“Jerk.”

 


	4. Breaking and entering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel misses Dean, badly, and has some time wiht himself, Dean firmly on his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally done with this story! It turned out much fluffier and sweet than planned. Oh well. Hope you still like it!

His hand wipes the fog from the mirror to expose his face. He looks tired, the bags under his eyes more pronounced. Though taking a shower has done him some good, since his cheeks are flushed from the heat and his hair, still damp, doesn't look greasy anymore. His hand goes to his face, wrinkled fingertips lightly touching the too long stubble there, then slowly trail down his neck, to the almost completely faded bruise right over his pulse.

  
  


Four weeks. It has been four weeks since he last saw Dean. It shouldn't be that big of a deal. They never made commitment. Never exchanged anything about themselves, really. Dean is a free man, coming and going as it pleases him, and Castiel only have the choice to let him in or not. He knows, deep down, that Dean wouldn't force him, for how forceful he is. He also knows perfectly well that he can't refuse him, not when everything Dean did to him so far has only been an echo of Castiel's own deepest desires.

  
  


Really, there is no reason for him to feel that way. Dean will be back, if he feels like it. If not, then Castiel will have the sweet memory of Dean's strong hands all over his body, his soft lips against his, or, that one wonderful time, against his hole, of his amazing eyes staring right into him. It's a good thing. He doesn't regret anything that happened. But still, the thought of never seeing Dean again, of him being bored of him makes his heart ache, suffocating him. How could he have let himself fall so deeply for someone he knows nothing of?

  
  


His hand slightly shakes as he shaves himself, ending up with a few tiny cuts on his throat that sting when he uses the alum block to ease the fire. He also sluggishly brushes his teeth, but skips combing his hair. He walkes to his room without bothering to put on clothes and sits on his bed, staring down at his toes on the carpet. He doesn't remember if he ate anything that day.

  
  


He huffes, annoyed at himself for reacting like that. Being depressed is not going to help anything. And really, it's not like he doesn't know where Dean lives, if he really needs to see him. He's acting like a love-struck teenager, and he's way too old for that. Not that he ever fell in love with anyone before.

  
  


He goes under the covers of his bed and turns on his side, his gaze falling on the nightstand. He realizes that he forgot to close the curtains, his room illuminated by the setting sun. He also sees the bottle of lube sitting innocently on the nightstand, along with his dildo and a box of tissues. Watching these items, he remembers Dean's words.

  
  


Of course, seeing as Dean apparently disappeared from his life, he has absolutely no reason to follow his orders. Still, the items in front of him make his heart beat a little faster. Irrationally, he thinks that maybe if he follows Dean's orders properly, Dean will come back to him. Maybe he's waiting for Castiel to really miss him, physically.

  
  


He licks his lips and in a split decision throws the blanket off his body, sitting up and grabbing the lube. It has been a while since he last did this, not once since he met Dean, and so, obviously, never while remembering what Dean did to him. Foolishly, he feels a little nervous, but also very excited at he uncaps the bottle and pours a proper amount on his fingers. Letting the bottle drop next to his pillow, he shifts until he's on his knees, his face resting on his pillow and his ass in the air. He knows that this is the easiest position to have good access to his hole.

  
  


His clean hand takes hold of a cheek, holding it firmly and spreading himself for easier access. His lube-covered hand joins in immediately after. The tip of his middle finger traces down his cleft, teasing him and making him squirm a little in anticipation. He lets out a small moan when his finger comes into contact with his hole. In his mind, it's the memory of that first time, against Dean's door, that plays.

  
  


For a long, long time, he teases himself. Traces is hole, rub against it and only pushes the very tip past the tight ring of mscle before retreating. He does this until he's fully hard and sweating, thinking about Dean's tongue doing the same to him. Only when he can't take it anymore, does he allow himself to slide the first finger in, all the way to his knuckle. He moans for the entire duration of the pentration, his body having craving it.

  
  


He lets his finger rest inside for a moment, not moving his hand, but wriggling his ass, begging the Dean in his mind to get moving, to stop torturing him. The Dean obliges, and his finger slides out. Only to come back in with two, not giving him the time to adjust. The intrusion is almost too much, his body not prepared, but he loves it. He loves how Dean is not gentle with him.

  
  


He curls his own fingers inside, looking for his special spot. But that's the disadvantage of that position, his fingers curling in the wrong direction. Still, he knows a way, and instead of pressing the tip of his fingers against it, he takes advantage of their length to rub the middle knuckles into the spot. His lips part at the feeling, his chin raising as he digs his face into the pillow.

  
  


Starting to get impatient, he begins the thrusting motions, never uncurling his finger and only making small movements. Soon, a third finger joins in, and his thrusts speed up, the sheets under his body rustling with the movements of his writhing body. Finally, he can't stand it anymore and takes his fingers out.

  
  


Panting and shaking, he snatches the dildo from his nightstand and quickly, messily lubes it up. He pictures doing it to Dean's cock. Thinks about sucking him first. He doesn't have to time right now, though, and as soon as the dildo is properly coated, he slides it all the way into his ass in one smooth motion. It's a big one, still not as big as Dean's cock, but big enough to fill him well.

  
  


He thrusts it a few times, hard, unable to stop himself. But Dean is in a teasing mood and wants to torture him. So he lets the dildo rest inside, not touching it, and fumbles with the base until the buzz of the vibrator comes out, muffled by his body. He groans. Both of his hands drop from his ass, curling in the sheets on each side of his head. He grinds his forehead into the pillow, back arching and ass canting, when the random setting changes to maddenly hard vibrations.

  
  


He wants to reach back and pound his own ass hard and fast, but the Dean in his mind is forbidding it, looking at him hungrily while Castiel's hips hump into empty air. Unconsciously, he twists and turns is body seductively, desperate but languish, as if Dean really is watching him, praising him for doing so well and being so sexy. And Castiel wants Dean to find him sexy, wants him to desire him as much as he does Dean.

  
  


“Dean...”

  
  


Feeling himself getting close, he reaches behind himself to grab the dildo and start thrusting it, finally getting his long awaited friction. Except that before his hand can touch the dildo, a hand snatches his wrist, keeping it away in a firm, unmistakable grip.

  
  


“Dean...!”

  
  


It comes almost like a sob, relief and need mixing in a plea. Dean is here. It's not a fruit of his imagination. Dean is really, really here. He came back. Castiel is going to kick his ass for worrying him so much, and damn their non commitment, but for now he wants him, wants him so much he feels stupidely overwhelmed.

  
  


Dean doesn't say anything. Only clutches the base of the dildo between his teeth and pushes it in as far at it can go, making Castiel jump a little. He doesn't stop there. He also sneaks his tongue inside, along with the dildo, and circles the base over and over again, the slick muscle rubbing against the ring of Castiel's hole, opening him wider.

  
  


Suddenly, the dildo is taken out, thrown to the side, and replaced by Dean's tongue, buried as far as possible. It doesn't go as far as the toy, isn't as wide, doesn't vibrate, but the slickness of it, the lips against the rim, and the simple fact that it's Dean's tongue inside his ass are enough to make Castiel come with a shout barely muffled by his pillow, his hole clenching around Dean's tongue as cum spurts on the sheet right bellow him.

  
  


His legs almost give up under him, shaking with the effort of holding his lower body up, and he would have flopped already if it wasn't for Dean's hands holding him in place. He lays there, panting in his pillow, strengthless and breathless. He's only starting to realize that Dean really is here, that he came back for him, which makes him feel both elated and angry beyond belief, when he feels Dean's hard cock nudge against his hole.

  
  


He just came. He's spent, having taken such a long time teasing himself and coming so hard from the delicious feeling of Dean's tongue in his ass. He doesn't tink he can take another orgasm so soon. But obviously Dean doesn't care, determined to have his way with him. Castiel knows he shouldn't allow Dean to have so much power over him, but he can't help it, he craves the way Dean easily dominates him, uses him, makes him his to fuck as it pleases him. Castiel is a complete deviant, and can only moan in pleasure as he's filled again with Dean amazingly thick cock.

  
  


Dean only stops when he's buried all the way in, his balls pressed against Castiel's. Castiel feels so full, his body straining under the accomodation. But he can't pretend not to like it. If it was up to him, Dean would be there, stretching him to his maximum, every single day, morning and evening. Still, for his oversenstitive body, it's a little much, and he trembles, completely strengthless, only preventing himself from crumbling down thanks to Dean's grip.

  
  


Dean either doesn't notice or doesn't care, and curls one arm around Castiel's waist to hoist him up and back, until he's sitting on Dean's lap, his head on his shoulder. It's a very intimate position, bringing him flushed against Dean's surprisingly naked skin in a way he never was able to. The fact that they're in a bed, Castiel's own bed, only highlights this. He turns his head to the side, his nose rubbing against Dean's neck.

  
  


“Dean...”

  
  


It comes as a soft whisper, full of longing. Dean answers by tilting his head down and licking on his neck, all the while holding Castiel slightly above him to allow him to thrust his hips up, his thick length sliding in and out of Castiel's body at a slow but hard pace. Castiel moans, his own length already hardening again, and mouthes at Dean's delicious skin.

  
  


He gasps and tears his mouth away, head tilting back, when Dean changes the speed of his thrusts and shifts his hips just enough to press more firmly against his prostate with each one. His pace turns merciless, pounding so hard Castiel's moans come out chocked, his body jostled while skin slaps against skin, Dean's hard chest holding him firmly in place.

  
  


Then, abruptly, Dean slows down again, to soft, teasing thrusts. It allows Castiel to catch his breath and shift into Dean's arms, loving the feeling of his body so close to him. His eyes blink open, eyelids heavy and eyes glassed over, staring right ahead out of the still open window and into the clear sky.

  
  


Admiring the full moon.

  
  


It takes him a second to precess it but then his entire body freezes, is heart missing a couple of beats. He starts shaking, deep-rooted, real fear taking hold of him.

  
  


“D-D-Dean...”

  
  


Dean doesn't notice the change right away, and only keeps on slowly thrusting, which feels amazing despite Castiel's panick.

  
  


“Dean!”

  
  


Finally, Dean stops and raises his head.

  
  


“It's the full moon, Dean!”

  
  


It's Dean's turn to freeze, his entire body tensing as he stares outside the window. Castiel can feel his heart pounding wildy in his chest.

  
  


“Shit!”

  
  


“Do you...”

  
  


He pauses and swallows.

  
  


“Do you want me to handcuff you?”

  
  


Dean slowly turns his head to look down at him, eyes wide.

  
  


“....What?”

  
  


Castiel sighs, impatient.

  
  


“You are going to change soon! Do you want me to restrain you?”

  
  


Dean's jaw drops, and Castiel can read the astonishment in his already too bright eyes. His voice comes out even lower than usual.

  
  


“Wait! Hold on! How did you-?”

  
  


Castiel smiles and gently kisses him.

  
  


“You are hardly the first werewolf I meet. Definitely the most handsome one, though.”

  
  


Dean is still staring at him, eyes wide.

  
  


“Holy fuck, Cas! And you couldn't have said anything??”

  
  


Castiel shrugs one shoulder.

  
  


“It's not my place to tell. I figured you would tell me if you wanted me to know.”

  
  


Dean shakes his head and snorts.

  
  


“You're unbelievable. But to answer your question, I'm not a bitten, so no, I don't need restrain. We should probably stop, though.”

  
  


“Why?”

  
  


The pause that follows Castiel's question is pregnant, heavy loaded. Castiel didn't ask out of innocence, and Dean obviously understands that. Dean is going to change, already is, actually, and now that Castiel knows he's not a bitten and as such has a lot more control than one, he doesn't want Dean to stop. He wants Dean to take him, in his wolf form.

  
  


They stare at each other for a long time, but Dean still looks uncomfortable.

  
  


“Cas...”

  
  


Castiel wraps one arm around Dean's neck, hand pressing against the back of his head to pull him down for a kiss. His other hand tangles its finger with Dean over his stomach, holding it in place, all the while his hips roll, grinding down on Dean and making his length rub against his inner walls.

  
  


“Please... Don't stop...”

  
  


Dean growls, a low, animalistic sound that makes Castiel shiver, and kisses him, hard. Castiel goes pliant under the brutal strength but grinds his hips harder, pushing back against Dean's cock. Under his fingers, he feels Dean's hair start to get longer. His teeth also get sharper, and his tongue flatter, floppier. His cock thickens inside of Castiel's body, making him gasp and break the kiss.

  
  


Dean's other hand curl around his throat, keeping his head tilted back against his shoulder while his cock keeps on thickening. Claws replace blunt nails, digging into Castiel's skin. The smooth chest gets covered by thick fur, as do the naked thighs under his. Finally, the cock seems to have reached its maximal width and length, and Castiel opens his eyes, breathing in short little gasps.

  
  


The face that greets him has nothing to do with the one he's so used to. It's a wolf head, nothing really human about it. Castiel still recognizes Dean under the thick fur and long snout. And even as a wolf, Dean is incredibly beautiful. Castiel feels a little ashamed by how turned on he is, but there is no mistaking the way his cock leaks and his hole attempts to clench around Dean's length. His hands uncurl from Dean's fur and trails up into it, until it touches an amazingly soft ear, which twitches under his touches. He smiles.

  
  


“Fuck me, Dean.”

  
  


The growl Dean lets out at that resonates all the way down Castiel's bones, making his heart flutter in a mix of fear and anticipation, not unlike the first time he jumped in parachute. Before he knows it, he's back to having his face pressed into the pillow, his ass in the air. Dean's clawed hands are holding him down, each one holding a bicep firmly pressed into the matress.

  
  


And then Dean starts pounding.

  
  


It's a lot more than what Castiel was ready for and he can't even moan under the brutal strength of Dean's powerful thrusts. Dean's cock is monstruously big, stretching him so wide there is simply no way he'll be able to walk tomorrow. Or maybe more like for an entire week. The muscles of his arms scream in protest under Dean's too strong grip.

  
  


As goes the saying, Castiel is being fucked silly. And it's too much to handle, but yet he loves it, loves how he's completely at Dean's mercy, defenseless, powerless, unable to do anything but lay there and take it. He loves how much Dean fills him. He loves how utterly dirty this is, to let himself be taken by this monster. He loves the thick fur rubbing all over his naked skin. He loves the floppy tongue occasionally licking his neck, or the wet snout brushing against it.

  
  


When Dean bites him, he's surprisingly gentle, obviously doing his very best not to break the skin while unable to stop himself from making a claim on what the wolf probably considers his bitch. And it's the feeling of Dean's sharp teeth dangerously close to kill him that make Castiel come for the second time that evening, harder than ever before in his life, his entire body seizing. Dean comes right at the same time, his hot semen flooding into Castiel's insides.

  
  


Overwhelmed, Castiel passes out.

  
  


**

  
  


He wakes up on his side, with Dean plastered against his back, snoring softly against his neck, and still buried inside of him. Which should have been dangerous, but Castiel is still stretched so wide that even Dean's bigger than average length can rest comfortably, no match to his monstruous girth when he's changed.

  
  


Changed. Castiel's memory comes back, what he dared doing. He feels his face flush in slight shame at having let a werewolf take him. He had never considered the possibility before, but no matter how dangerous and wrong it is, he knows that if Dean wants to do it again at the next full moon, or anytime he wants if he can change at will (which Castiel thinks is possible for people born as werewolves), Castiel will gladly do it again.

  
  


Dear Lord, he's such a deviant.

  
  


Dean is now back in his human form, as the sun has just started rising. The days are longer this time of the year, so it's not really a surprise. He only realizes that he's grinning when he feels Dean's soft lips brush against hs skin, still half asleep but instinctively mouthing at Castiel's skin. Castiel hums, his grin widening further, and raises their joined hands to his mouth, kissing Dean's fingers.

  
  


“Caaaas...”

  
  


Castiel pinches his lips to hold back a chuckle, even as his abs flex under the effort.

  
  


“What is it, Dean?”

  
  


Dean groans and rubs his face against Castiel's neck, mumbling.

  
  


“I knotted you all night. I don't have the energy to fuck you again, so stop it.”

  
  


“Well, maybe you should start by taking it out, then.”

  
  


Dean mumbles again and shifts until his cocks pops out, leaving Castiel feeling uncomfortably empty. One of his leg sneaks between Castiel's while the arm under his neck curls around his collarbone, holding him closer.

  
  


“...So... We cuddling, now?”

  
  


Castiel understands the real question under Dean's words and swallows thickly. His voice shakes ever so slightly as he answers, almost in a whisper.

  
  


“I would like that very much.”

  
  


Dean doesn't say anything, and only tightens his grip a little. Castiel grins and turns his head to rub his cheek against Dean's arm, his eyes stinging.

  
  


He doesn't go to work that day. Not the next three days.

  
  


**

  
  


Considering his size, and what he is, Sam should be absolutely scary. But there's a gentleness to him that shows that he's much more at ease with humans than Dean is, even if Dean, Castiel knows, is actually a big softy under all the tough exterior. But he doesn't tell Dean that, and pretends not to notice when Dean is playing with Castiel's kitten (who was rightfully wary of Dean at first but now has taken so much to him she curls into Dean's fur for sleep when he's turned).

  
  


“It's nice to finally meet you, Sammy.”

  
  


“It's Sam, actually.”

  
  


Castiel blinks while Sam gives Dean the stinky eye, the older werewolf only smirking in return. Castiel put the tray down on the coffee table in front of them. Tea for Sam, fresh beer for Dean, and coffee for himself.

  
  


“Sam, then.”

  
  


“I like your place.”

  
  


Castiel smiles. He almost had to put a leash on Dean to drag him to move in with him after the bathroom of the apartment upstairs had a great leak that flooded his own, but for all his protests, Dean was clearly happy to live in a nice, cosy place and to have a full fridge. He has taken to cook, and is surprisingly good as it, even if he tends to eat his meat a little bit too raw for Castiel's tastes.

  
  


“Thank you. You are welcome here anytime you want.”

  
  


Sam has taken a few days off after his latest exams to visit Dean, and since Castiel has a spare bedroom that Dean never ended up using, he's going to stay there with them.

  
  


Sam leans back in the couch and eyes Castiel for a long time, the look on his face screaming mischief. For all of their differences, that's clearly an expression he shares with Dean.

  
  


“Soooo, you're the one, huh?”

  
  


“The one?”

  
  


Dean throws a panicked look at Sam, which goes royally ignored, while Castiel looks confused.

  
  


“Well yeah. Last time Dean came to visit me he was all angsting thinking he had the werewolf feral curse. A curse that makes pureblood werewolves revert back to their cursed ancestors, attacking without reason. It takes a trigger, which is unclear since the curse is a myth. And since he had bitten you, he thought you were it.”

  
  


Castiel blinks. It's the first time he hears this story. When he had asked why Dean left for so long, Dean had told him he had left to see Sam, for family matters. He has never mentionned a curse.

  
  


“You wouldn't believe how hard I laughed when it turned out he was just completely and utterly smitten with you.”

  
  


“Sammy! I swear I'm gonna kill you you little bitch!”

  
  


Castiel feels himself flush, incredibly happy at the discovery. Dean still has troubles expressing his feelings in proper words, even if it's obvious how much he likes Castiel. Not that Castiel lets him know that he's aware of it. Dean is obviously more comfortable thinking he can get away any time he feels like it. But as long as he keeps clutching Castiel so tightly while he sleeps, he doesn't think it's going to happen any time soon.

  
  


“Dean. Please don't use this word in a derogatory way. There is absolutely nothing wrong with being a bitch.”

  
  


And to prove his point, Castiel junts his chin out, showing off the collar he's always wearing at home now.

 


End file.
